


Splintered Words

by Omnixi



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Betrayal, Billford - Freeform, Biting, Blowjobs, Body Worship, Bottom Bill Cipher, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gaslighting, Human Bill Cipher, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulative Bill Cipher, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Past Bill Cipher/Ford Pines - Freeform, Power bottom bill cipher, Praise Kink, Pre-Weirdmageddon, Punishment, Rituals, Scratching, Sexual Fantasy, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, i'll add more later, slight gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-06-02 15:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19444177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnixi/pseuds/Omnixi
Summary: When all great creators lose hope, it's easy to ask for guidance from others. To swallow one's pride is to become weak and vulnerable. Vulnerability is something to be fed off of.Stanford Pines becomes obsessed when he finds himself stuck on the idea of creating something so powerful, it could manifest a door between dimensions. Asking for help and inspiration from a higher being seemed like an intelligent and reasonable response.-This story takes place before the portal was built. The main idea of this work is to show the relationship Ford and Bill shared leading up to Bill's betrayal. Also, Fiddleford arrived to assist Ford before the portal was introduced to him.-





	1. Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya!  
> This isn't the first fic I've ever written but it's my first on A03 as well as my first GF fic! I'm excited to share my ideas and headcanons. I've been spending a few weeks thinking about different aspects of Bill and Ford's relationship and have spent time talking about them with a dear friend of mine.  
> That being said, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Edit:  
> So I know it isn't the longest chapter but I hope it was still enjoyable! I can't wait to build on the relationship between Bill and Ford.
> 
> My platform on all social media: Omnixi
> 
> (big thanks to my friend, @vamkitten.cosplay on Instagram, for helping me build the idea for this story and helping contribute some headcanons! )
> 
> Song for this chapter: Hello My Old Heart- The Oh Hello's

_Ignorance is bliss._ It has been said time and time again, the words reproduced from several tongues in different languages over the years. _Ignorance is bliss_ they always mutter bitterly and without thought. **Without thought.** Every individual who has sputtered the phrase through their unknowing lips was just that- _**Ignorant.**_ They lacked any and all form of knowledge, preaching that it would allow for others to live a peaceful life. That in itself was madness. How could one move through life without knowing anything- without receiving any form of an answer to a gnawing question, pricking its cold and curious fingers to the back of one's mind, simply _begging_ to be granted access into conscious thought?

It made little sense to Stanford Pines. The man had climbed the ladders of life by learning and gaining answers. Though it had never been enough. Much like a man with too much power, Ford had gotten greedy. There were always more questions that needed to be answered, more information needed to be interpreted and built upon. No human held all the answers to time, space, and the universe itself. It was easy to say the mere thought was impossible- being all-knowing. In fact, not only was it impossible, but ridiculous in theory. New information was being released to the public almost on the daily. Discoveries were being made. No one was _t_ _hat_ knowledgeable. Or at least...no _human_ Ford had encountered. 

The six-fingered man knew more than his fair share of scholars and academically gifted peers, including his dear friend and assistant- Fiddleford McGucket, who worked alongside the researcher in his endeavors. Though Ford thought himself lucky when a couple of years back, he had encountered someone or rather... _something_ so much more knowledgeable than himself. It was a blessing from a higher power- if ever there was one. Finding someone who had a greater understanding of science and the universe was beneficial to his studies. The amount of work he had accomplished with having someone like _him_ around was well over the amount of work he had accomplished on his own. The opportunities he had been given were endless. Deep in thought, he imagined coming face to face with this person, as they had already created the ultimate bond. A friendship that could last a lifetime. His work would all pay off when he would be awarded titles and gifted with prizes he could only dream of receiving. A small smile tugged at the corner of Ford's lip as his daydreams were yanked from his usually focused mind by a sudden comment from his colleague. 

"Hate to bother ya..." The southern elocution caused Ford to blink away the dryness of his eyes in bewilderment. Fiddleford searched his friend's face for an invitation to continue. Once he felt he found it, the man adjusted his spectacles and continued. "You've been writin' down that same formula for about twenty minutes. I hate to bring ya the bad news but uh..." Fiddleford swallowed dryly. "We've tried that same equation 'bout three days back if my memory serves me right." Despite how dull-witted the heavy southern accent made the slim man sound, he actually spoke in a very sophisticated way. His vocabulary ranged from one horizon to another and beyond. He was rarely at a loss for words when trying to explain work or anything along the lines of computer mechanics. The only time he struggled forming a coherent sentence was when he fell into a fit of panic. Ford was a bit concerned with his friend's anxiety issues. He always made a note to help him with coping skills. They seemed to help but only for short bursts of time.

Ford found himself looking back down at his work. Indeed McGucket was correct. It was the same formula written time and time again. Not only that, they **had** tried the same layout equation days back with no success. Stanford found his lips stretching into an annoyed line. A quick breath was drawn in before leaving his lungs just as quickly as it had entered. 

"My mistake," The dark-haired male began before sitting up straight and allowing his pencil to fall to the table atop the now useless work. "Rest has escaped me recently. Maybe it's time I take a break." A six-fingered hand scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm at my wit's end, F." Fiddleford simply nodded in understanding. Ford continued. It had been a while since he was able to be open about his feelings. It wasn't that he couldn't or that the opportunity hadn't arisen, but that he wasn't much for expressing his emotional thoughts. It could get in the way of important work. "I'm unsure of where to move forward from here. We've tried most everything. We've double and even triple checked our work and we still come up with nothing. I don't understand how we could get so...stumped. How _I_ could get so stumped." 

The thought had clearly frustrated the researcher. He had never had such trouble with a project before. Why had these problems only now manifested? Perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew, though Ford would never admit to that. He was much too stubborn to admit that kind of defeat. 

The assistant took in a small and quiet breath in thought. He had to think of what to say to bring the other up a bit. After a moment of silent thought, Fiddleford shifted up to place his palms carefully on Stanford's desk, leaning most of his weight on the wood. This allowed the piece of furniture to creak at the pressure that was being placed on it. 

"As a friend and colleague, I think it'll be in yer best interest ta get some sleep. I've seen ya, hardly keepin' yer eyes open when we work. Yer wearin' yerself thin, Stanford. It can't hurt ya ta rest yer eyes for a bit." 

Yet again, he was right. Ford would at least admit to that. As he listened closely to his peer's advice, he began nodding in agreement. Stanford removed his glasses to rub the sleep from his eyes as he sighed heavily, bordering a yawn. "I can't ever seem to argue with your reason, F. You're a good friend." Ford sat back, removing his polydactyl hands from his painfully exhausted face. "Then we take a day off. Both of us. To rest and bring ourselves back to our right minds." He insisted his assistant rest, too. After all, he did work just as hard and placed extreme amounts of effort into their research. He deserved rest just as much as Ford did. 

Fiddleford seemed to smile at the concern. However, both agreed that is would be beneficial to their health and studies to take a night off. So they decided to step away from the piles of papers, equations, and blueprints for the day. 

* * *

Trying to fall asleep was the hardest part. Ford was a man of planning and preparation. Therefore, he had spent the past hour trying to relax his body and mind. One would think this would be a much easier task that it was turning out to be. The man had read a simple novel about the difference between rational and irrational thought as he found that to be a rather interesting topic. He had taken a long shower (which was very much needed), brushed his teeth, washed his face, and had slipped into an old pair of pajama lounge pants for comfort. It had been a while since he had properly done a bedtime ritual. But once he slid between the thick covers of his bed and closed his eyes- sleep never came to him. This resulted in many minutes of tossing and turning all while thrashing about in order to get comfortable. Irritating noises of frustration followed with each failed attempt to submit to slumber. With every grunt came a new position and a harsh hand was thrown down to beat and fluff the pillow, hoping to create enough commotion to stir the feathers in his favor- No such luck.

After what seemed like hours, the sweet embrace of rest wrapped its arms gently around the man, cradling him in the perfect way. That gentle hold stay firm even as Ford drifted into his dreams. it was only then he had noticed the slim arms wrapped tightly around him. The feeling was more than serene. He never wanted to leave that calming embosom. He knew it's warmth all too well and, god, how he had missed it. The soft voice that tugged and penetrated his eardrums was much like that of honey- smooth. Sweet whispers dripped around him, making the air feel not so empty.

" _Oh, how I've missed you, IQ._ " came that smooth and tempting voice. Ford couldn't help but melt further into the embrace.

"My Muse..." Ford whispered softly, refusing to use a name for the entity at the moment. Curled lips moved upward in a pleased manner at the title the human had given him. It was good to see that Stanford Pines was still wrapped so tightly around Bill's finger- ready to be molded on command. "You've been gone so long. I was beginning to think you may have chosen to inspire other minds." 

" _And leave behind my favorite brainiac? Not a chance._ " Bill continued to speak sweetly and softly, the quiet manner of his words folding atop the two like a blanket. It was comforting. It felt like an hour (though time was very much irrelevant in the mindscape) of being held before Bill released the human from his embrace. Upon doing so, Stanford found himself looking to meet that face of pure bliss that he hungered for...for months. The entity before him was tall with a next to perfect build. Tanned, almost golden skin emitted warmth and a gentle glow of radiant life. Blonde hair parted slightly off to the right of his head, framing his face shape nicely. Golden locks draped over his left eye, concealing what was underneath. The way he dressed was even more impressive.

When Bill had first approached Ford Pines that day in the forest about two or so years ago, he had worn long, flowing white silk to cover below his torso and to cascade down his tan legs. He bore a golden usekh (a piece of cloth that was wrapped over his shoulders which resembled that of the Egyptians) that came to a triangular point on his bare chest. His arms were peppered with runes and symbols, looking to be apart of some sort of zodiac. A reoccurring element that was incorporated into his look was the shape of a triangle. It could be found on rings he wore, the way his clothing sat, earrings that hung from his soft earlobes...it was a sight to behold. Bill had also one thing that must have been trademarked to his look- a triangular eyepatch placed over his left eye. The right eye, the one that was exposed, had changed from honey-colored gold to a black, cat-like slit from time to time. It was a magnificent look. Though a bit overboard for such modern types. In Bill's opinion, it looked much too godly. Now, the entity wore a black button-up shirt, tight-fitting black slacks, a yellow bowtie, a small elongated top hat which was rather slim, and a clean-cut yellow vest. All of this was accented with dressy black leather shoes that came to a point at the toes. The eyepatch, however, had never changed.

" _I've noticed your trouble and frustrations, Sixer. And I'm here to help. Though I come asking a **favor.**_ " The last word rolled off the devious tongue like satin, but there was so much emphasis upon it...it must have been important. 

"Anything," Ford replied. "Anything." His voice trailed itself to match that of Bill- a whisper. 


	2. Divine Intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Thank you for the kudos! I love getting little emails whenever someone likes my content. I know there aren't many but there are more than I thought there would be! I really appreciate it!
> 
> In addition to publishing this chapter, I went back to the first chapter to fix some errors I found while re-reading it. I feel like it also flows much smoother now. Please let me know if you catch an error so I can fix it!
> 
> All that being said, please don't forget to comment and leave kudos to help me to continue to be motivated in writing this fic! It also means so much to me.
> 
> Thanks Much!

Stanford woke in a cold sweat. A gigantic smile was plastered to his face as new doors of opportunity had opened themselves to him. For that, he would be forever grateful but now wasn't the time to sit and make a gratitude list. He had work to do. Lots of it. And he was determined to get it **done**.

With a new found spring in his step, Ford had thrown the comforter and sheets off of him, scrambling to his feet to grab his glasses. Small, excited mumbles poured from behind chapped lips as the dark-haired male began his spiral into ecstatic madness all while rushing around his room. Last night was a special night. In fact, Ford would dare to say it had been the best night of sleep he had ever gotten. Bill Cipher- his _muse_ \- had visited him once again after many long months of waiting. He wouldn't dare say he had given up hope completely though he was definitely losing a great deal of it. Now all he could do was swim in his ocean of relief and excited thoughts. 

Bill had given such brilliant insight to a question Ford had been carrying on his shoulders for years now- _What is the connection between all of the anomalies and strange doings in Gravity Falls?_ Now, The man would get his answer. Of course it wasn't centered around some strange magical spell- it was a dimensional rip! He felt so dull for not seeing this sooner! A tear between dimensions, one of the world Ford had lived in and one that could only be referred to as a "weirdness dimension". It made so much sense now! The researcher felt as though his vision and thoughts- once clouded with confusion and frustration- were suddenly cleared away and all he could see ahead were clear skies and sunshine. A promising future. 

Along with this amazing new divine knowledge, the blond entity (a god, an angel, a demon- whatever he may be) had left very real and very tangible blueprints for the brilliant mind to follow. Truly, he was a blessing. 

Ford raced to dress himself, not bothering with brushing otherwise untameable hair. Buttons were sloppily- but properly- put into their rightful places and a brown sweater vest was slipped overtop the light colored shirt. Finally, two arms had gone through their corresponding sleeve of a tan trenchcoat. After all was done, Stanford wasted no more time before hastily stomping down the stairs to the basement and making his way through the secret door that lead to the lab. 

Eager fingers reached for the third journal and a polydactyl hand began to write. A new page and a new topic. This meant a new header. Ford could think of the perfect title for the next four pages. A wide grin spread over his face as large cursive letters began to fill the top of the paper- " ** _The Muse has Spoken_** ". 

Pleased with the bold look, the man continued to write the entry. 

" _I awake after the longest slumber of my life with renewed energy and inspiration! My Muse, that strange, whimsical creature who speaks to me in my dreams has returned to me at last, this time with insight so brilliant it can only be described as divine intervention! All this time I've been looking-_ "

"Stanford?" 

The book slammed shut. Ford knew very well it was best not to tell Fiddleford about his source of inspiration. Mcgucket was a religious man, one who considered himself superstitious. This would surely frighten him off. Now wasn't the time to tell him. 

"Ah, Fidds, you frightened me." Ford breathed out, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "You're here rather early." The scrawny male nodded a bit, adjusting his spectacles. A worried look was plastered to his face. Though, then again, his face usually looked that way- in a state of constant distress and worry. Perhaps it was just his default expression...or maybe he was _actually_ worried all the time. 

"Didn't mean ta startle ya." The assistant began awkwardly. "I was awake much too early this mornin' and I realized I left my Cubix Cube last night. Didn't have much ta fidget with ta keep my mind occupied. Figured I'd come ta get a bit of a head start...Though it looks like yer onta somethin'." Ford relaxed his shoulder's a bit and a relieved sigh escaped past him. Indeed he was onto something and all he could do was mentally thank Bill for such wonderful input on the matter. He was sure the entity would appreciate the silent gratitude. 

"I see," The man chuckled and turned his back to the closed journal to better face his colleague. "Indeed I am. Let me explain to you this theory. It came to me in a dream and when I woke, I knew I had to immediately spring into action." It was in this moment that he probably realized his appearance wasn't one that looked to be neat. He was only slightly embarrassed but there were other things to worry about now. He just needed to ignore the fact that he looked like a mad man. Ford noticed Fiddleford's eyebrows knit together further as if prompting the other to explain a bit more in-depth. The researcher stared for a moment before a thought hit him dead in the face like a harsh smack into reality.

"Blueprint!" he suddenly blurted out. A six-fingered hand quickly went to rub over his desk, moving piles of papers out of the way. And just as sure as Bill said it would be, there the blueprint was. It was magnificent. Stanford had to take a moment to really take in its beauty before pulling the diagram from its place to show the assistant. Fiddleford looked at it thoughtfully. His tight, bothered expression seemed to melt bit by bit as he read over small details and examined the sketches- all the while Ford was blabbering off his theory. 

Mcgucket gave an approving nod before standing straight and beginning to pick at his fingernails as a nervous habit. "New ideas are never bad. Though are we sure it's gonna be safe? Seems a bit...out there, yeah? Where would we get those parts?" A valid question. Though Stanford Pines already had the answer. "It will take a bit of digging, there's no doubt. And yes, it could very much be dangerous. Though something tells me, we've had such bad luck that something just might go our way. Optimism, Fidds." 

Something about the way the researcher spoke put Fiddleford a bit unnerved. Though, when wasn't he unnerved? He was a walking ball of anxiety with spectacles and hair. "We're gonna have ta go on another expedition...aren't we?" Disappointment laced through his timid and shaking voice. And from the way Ford gave a chuckle, one could only assume the answer was yes. God help him. 

* * *

Serenity. The feeling was one the scientist was beginning to know very well. He had no complaints to give. The silence surrounded him in a peaceful way as he walked leisurely through his own mind. Grass folded under Ford's foot and a warm, gentle breeze had drawn him in a certain direction. Without knowing his own destination, he followed the promptings around him and boy was he so very happy he did. 

Bill sat near what appeared to be a weeping willow tree. Normal colors were irrelevant at the moment so there was no way to describe the beauty that which Stanford beheld. That pleased and relieved smile spread over the scientist's face once again as he had found the being behind most of his greatest discoveries. Now he was close and standing in front of the blond which looked to be sleeping peacefully himself. Ford bent down to brush a loose golden strand of hair from the other's perfect complexion.

" _Not sleeping, Sixer._ " Bill's voice startled the young weirdness enthusiast, causing him to withdraw his hand. A golden eye peered open at the man and a smirk crawled its way onto the demon's lips before melting into a gentler smile. He sat up a bit and patted the space next to him. Taking the hint, Ford sat next to Bill, a rosy blush settling on his cheeks from his moment of embarrassment just seconds earlier. 

" _Nice here, isn't it? I created this just for you._ " That honey-smooth voice came dripping out. Ford was so enthralled by the beauty around him that he almost didn't notice the other speak up again. _Almost._

"It's lovely. And absolutely fascinating that you can do something so magnificent. You need to tell me how. I want to be able to understand more about-" 

" _Not the time, IQ._ " Bill interrupted. " _I admire your curiosity and desire to learn, you know that. But you babble too much sometimes._ " This got Ford to close his gaping mouth and nod. He wasn't upset. Bill was probably right. He did get a bit carried away at times. So, he decided to take in a breath of the refreshing air and lean back against the large base of the tree. " _You're so good at listening._ " The entity purred. He reached down and took Stanford's hand into his own, running a thumb over the other's extra finger. " _And since you're so good at listening, it shouldn't be a problem for you to listen to this- It's been about three or so weeks since you've started the portal project. And you're doing wonderfully. I just think you could be doing **better**. I'm sure you are trying very hard, hm?"_

Ford gave a small nod, his full attention on his perfect muse. He couldn't help it. The small bit of physical contact that they were sharing was enough to bring his mind to Bill and Bill only. 

The demon gave almost a demeaning, sarcastic smile. Though it was hard to tell. " _I appreciate that. But it's taking too long. You've hardly gathered all of the parts, Fordsy. At the pace you're going at, who knows what kind of discoveries will be made before you get the chance to prove one, simple theory._ " 

The scientist nodded yet again. "You're right...I'm wasting too much time. I can cut out parts of my day for this. It's for the greater good, after all. I'll tell my assistant we need to work faster." He agreed, thinking over what minuscule tasks he could cut from his daily routine. He could wake up earlier and go to bed later, breakfast would need to be simpler. No time for lunch. Dinner would also need to be shortened. 

Bill regained a warm expression yet again as he turned to face the human fully. " _For the greater good, that's right. I can see those little gears turning in that big head of yours. You'll do well, I'm sure. And if you do better, maybe I could reward you._ " 

"Reward me?" The muse nodded. "What kind of reward?" Genuine curiosity took over Stanford, as per usual. 

It was clear, however, that not a word further would be said about the matter. " _And Sixer? Do me a favor. Try and keep your little **sidekick** to the **sidelines** as much as possible. He's getting a bit too nosey._" A puzzled look deepened over Ford's face. "Sidekick? Do you mean McGucket? Fiddleford is one of my most trusted companions. I don't possibly know what I would do without his full assistance. What could you possibly mean by 'nosey'?" 

" _ **Nosey**._" Bill repeated, this time with a bit more force. A sharp snap of his fingers ended it all. The peaceful bliss. The serenity. It was all gone. 

Stanford woke with such force, he could have fallen straight out of bed. Heavy breaths heaved from his chest as sweat rolled down his forehead. He had a sudden moment of clarity and he knew what he had to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I loved writing it!  
> The journal entry that was written is (in case you didn't recognize it) ACTUALLY from journal number 3. So, of course, all credit to that little tidbit goes to where it is due- Alex Hirsch and anyone in affiliation with the production of writing the journal. 
> 
> My social media on all platforms: @omnixi
> 
> My Beta: @vamkitten.cosplay
> 
> Song for this Chapter: Goddess by Beach Weather


	3. Authority Wins Reward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!  
> Figured I would just pop in another chapter while I wait for my load of laundry to be done. Great time killer, right?
> 
> Anywho, please don't forget to leave some comments and kudos! Let me know what you think of this chapter of fic in general! All feedback is welcome and very much appreciated as it takes me around 3 1/2- 4 hours to write one chapter. 
> 
> Let's get to it!

Fiddleford had offered to stay late the previous evening to review and triple-check some of their new equations. The excuse the man gave was something along the lines of making sure that the mechanics of the entire project ran smoothly and "without flaws". Ford didn't think much of the offer and was actually quite appreciative of it. Though after a visit from his perfect muse, perhaps he would think otherwise. 

After bidding his goodnights to his friend, watching as the other left, McGucket turned away from the stacks of papers that seemed to have no method to their madness. Instead of focusing on the equations as he had said he would, Fiddleford found himself scrambling for something so personal to Ford that it was probably a crime in the eyes of the author- if he were to find out. The journal. The most recent one was what the scrawny, anxious man was after.

Upon finding the familiar book with red binding and a golden six-fingered hand plastered on the front, accented by a number three, Fiddleford began to flip through the pages. 

He had no malicious intent behind his secretive actions. He simply noticed a change in the other's behavior and became worried about his long-time friend. Was that such a crime? 

Perhaps it wasn't right. But in the moment, this was truly the only way to understand Ford's thinking- or so he thought. It was difficult to get the researcher to open up and express emotional thought. Therefore, Fiddleford found reasoning within that logic alone. It validated his actions and would make him feel much less guilty about the deed he was committing. 

Moments went by of studying pages that had strange cryptograms and hidden ciphers. The inventor couldn't make heads or tails of the strange symbols. That alone was cause enough to be concerned. "What on God's green Earth-" the words were quiet and whispered, as if fearful that he may be caught if he were to speak too loudly. It was doubtful that Ford could hear him from the basement anyway, but as per usual, paranoia got the best of the mechanic. 

None of this made sense. Not to mention the way the fellow scientist wrote so highly of some sort of revelation...

Hazel eyes peered from over the rim of circular spectacles to the clock on the wall. Three in the morning? Where did all the time go? He had only opened the journal minutes ago but suddenly four hours passed as if it were nothing? 

Thick eyebrows knit together in a bit or worry as well as doubt. Fiddleford stood straight to stare a bit closer at the ticking clock. Something was extremely off. He couldn't tell what. The man adjusted his spectacles and looked down at his wrist to check the time on his own watch. Maybe the one on the wall was fast or needed to be repaired. 

No, it was indeed three A.M. Actually, another whole thirty minutes had passed just by staring at the clock. Something didn't sit right and it had Mcgucket reaching up to grip at light brown locks of hair. Maybe stress was getting to him. Having such a concerning and odd experience relating to the perception of time, Fiddleford decided it was best to turn in for the night. 

* * *

The morning was rough for both the researcher and his assistant. Stanford was basically _shoved_ from his own dream and forced away from the sensation of slumber all together. Fiddleford, however, did not sleep at all. Even upon returning to his own temporary home, the sweet embrace of sleep never tempted him. Not only that, but guilt was now eating him alive. 

He had done something to invade the privacy of his colleague and it hurt him to even admit that to himself. Besides not receiving any solid form of an answer, he still felt absolutely sick to his stomach. 

Ford, on the other hand, seemed entirely on edge and like he was _actively looking_ for something amiss. Bill had said that he didn't want Fiddleford getting in the way of this great accomplishment in scientific discovery- and that the assistant was already becoming too " ** _Nosey_** ". Ford could only infer that meant that the other male knew more than he should. 

With all the paranoia surrounding the two as they worked, not much got done that day. Not to mention that Stanford **had** found something slightly off from before. His journal had been shifted about 27 degrees to the right. Someone had touched it. And he had a feeling he knew who. 

Ford had cleared his throat, both to gain his assistant's attention as well as to rattle the groggy sound free from his throat. Fiddleford tensed a bit at the stirring noise that had interrupted the silence, but his eyes flickered up from his work to give the other his attention. 

"Did you find anything interesting last night?" Ford asked, his tone carrying a nonchalant attitude to it. But it carried a knowing tone. 

The slimmer male swallowed a painfully large lump in his throat. He could swear that his heart was beating so loud that the sound was echoing off the walls of their little workspace. "H..huh?"

"The equations. You were going to look over them again." Relief flew over Fidd's body, visibly becoming less tense. Though his mind didn't get the same comfort. There was too much to be worried about. "Oh uh, no. Nothin' out of the ordinary. The formulas seemed ta flow smoothly." He shrugged a bit, though his hands found their way under the table as he began to pick at already beaten nails. Ford took notice in the anxious habit. 

"Hm." The researcher hummed. He looked back down at his own work. "And what about the journal?" 

There it was. The sudden heart stop Fiddleford was anticipating. How on earth did the other notice? Had he been watched? Things were very off last night but he should have been able to notice if anyone was around...right? 

That anxious and tensed look that took over the facial features of the mechanic melted immediately into guilt and concern. "I'm worried about ya, Stanford. Ya seem so different these past few weeks and I didn't wanna bother by askin' what was on yer mind. Ya never really talk about anythin' other than logic and reason. I-I didn't mean anythin' by it I-"

"You know very well that that is my _private_ research, Fiddleford." Ford's voice hadn't become irritated but in a way, that was what frightened McGucket the most. "You and I are close but some things are to remain private. I am absolutely not obligated to share any of my thoughts or feelings with you if I feel it is unnecessary. I do my best to respect your boundaries-" not true. He wrote about the other's nervous habits, personal life, and even ways he could help change certain aspects of Fiddleford's anxious mannerisms. But at the moment, that didn't count. "- so I ask that you respect mine." The man finally bit down on the last word that left his mouth, making the sentence sound authoritative and sharp. 

Fiddleford was left speechless. He knew that what he did was wrong but he didn't expect the other's reaction to be so defensive. He would never anger his friend on purpose nor would he hold any form of malicious feelings for him. The room was now suddenly filled with silence. It was as if the quiet was louder than actual noise. It felt thick and heavy like a fog resting over the two. It was deafening.

Finally, Fiddleford managed to squeak out an apology. It was sincere and best left simple so the two could continue to work in peace. Though Fidds was left feeling rather defeated and anxious, Ford felt...almost good for carrying a bit of authority. The social power difference was enough to boost Stanford's confidence as it was. But the thought that completely sent him over the edge was thinking of how Bill would respond. The praise he would be given...the warmth of the other's voice sending him into a meditative state, feeling proud of his actions. He would be without a doubtful thought. 

* * *

Ford looked forward to these moments. Those little meetings with the beautiful entity- ** _his_** _-_ beautiful entity, had become more frequent and not just through a dreaming mind. The six-fingered man had already practiced meditation often but he was now able to ascend to a deeper plane. _The Mindscape._

One could call his relationship with Bill obsessive. Ford, of course, would argue that it was a perfectly healthy exchange and nothing to worry about. 

Tapestries. Symbols. Paintings. They were all for Bill and were all displayed in precise ways on the walls surrounding the center of the attic. This was where Ford spent his time communicating with the entity when he had a moment to spare. Candles were lit in a circle around the man who had sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor. Deep breaths were drawn in slowly and pushed out even slower. The blank canvas of closed eyelids began to hold small, subtle hints of color. The more relaxed he got, the more Ford saw. With one final inhale, his consciousness was shoved full throttle straight into the Mindscape. Inklings of color were no longer just hues or shades of light, but non-existent. He had opened his eyes to see the attic he knew so well. 

The world around him seemed frozen, colored over in varying shades of greys and blacks. But the one thing that had glorious and vibrant colors that were not of this world- was Bill. 

The demon changed his bored expression to a pleased smirk when Ford's attention had fully fallen upon him. 

" _I'm impressed. After your little moment with Mc-suck-it, you've really grown to be a real authoritative figure."_ Bill's voice fluttered through the air, filling every corner of the room. Ford's face twisted to one of pride. That could have pulled a hysterical laugh straight from the demon if he weren't trying to keep a facade. _"You've got more than brains to you, Sixer. I can see that. I've always been able to see that. But you never fail to bore me with little curve balls you throw my way."_ This little worm was too tightly wrapped around the hook. It wasn't going anywhere and soon enough, it would be Bill's bait to catch the biggest fish. Stanford Pines...the little worm. He had him right where he wanted him. Now all he needed was the biggest fish in the whole goddamn ocean- the portal. It would be finished and fully operational. There would be no stopping the tear between their worlds. 

Light footsteps moved in such a way, it was almost suspenseful to listen to the soft taps. Now the muse stood directly in front of the human, crouching down to be eye level with his little brainiac. A small hum of approval followed suit. _"You do so well, keeping your little friend in check. I'm all that's important now. What I say, what I whisper to you...that's all that matters."_ A lightly tanned hand cradled Ford's cheek, a thumb tentatively rubbing over the small bit of stubble that peppered the scientist's chin and jawline. 

Stanford was never opposed to Bill's endearing touches. They brought him comfort and joy. A sense of warmth and safety. "Of course you are all that matters to me. You are my absolute everything, Bill. You are my **_muse_**. My perfect diety." Music to Bill's ears. He enjoyed being pictured as some kind of divine being, a god-like figure. Much like Ford when he had his moment of authority over Fiddleford- Bill enjoyed **_power_**. 

Ford had closed his eyes to better focus on the loving touches he was being praised with. Though he had been completely thrown off by the sudden sensation of warmth against his lips. Rich brown eyes shot open, wide with shock. The most perfect being that he had basically worshiped for the past couple of years was closer than he had ever been before. This was something purely of Ford's fantasies though his thoughts had never trailed further than this moment. This was all he could ever picture. Just a few years ago he had a sex drive but every time he dared to go snooping through an old pornographic magazine, he fell victim to a disgusted and fearful moment of panic. He had always chosen to sit through his bodies desires and be uncomfortable for an entire day rather than getting his hands dirty (literally). 

_Prude._

Despite his past issues with making himself succumb to lust, this was too good a moment to pass up. After the initial shock had faded, Ford became hungry for the other's lips. He pressed into the kiss, a polydactyl hand yanking the blond down square into his lap. The other hand found its way to the small of the demon's back. 

Bill had to admit, the sudden aggression had startled him. The action was unexpected, especially from someone like Pines. The blond's knees caved as he was yanked down, giving him no other option than to straddle the human. He wasn't a fan of giving in to other's demands, silent or not. But it was for a much greater cause. 

The tender, skillful way the entity moved his lips against the researcher's was enough to drive anyone mad. Stanford prodded his tongue at the mouth of the demon, begging permission to explore. Surprised by the action, Bill furrowed his brows. Perhaps he could give some leeway but there had to be a limit somewhere. Nonetheless, he parted his lips and the scientist wasted no time in hungrily dancing around the warmth of the demon's mouth. Bill played along for a moment, sucking on the other's tongue and biting on his lips; all while keeping an uninterested stare. Ford couldn't see anyhow with his eyes closed like that. Pathetic human. 

Bill tasted so much sweeter than the author could have ever imagined. He tasted just like how his voice sounded...smooth and like honey. 

As soon as the six-fingered hands began to trail lower and lower, nearly groping the blond's ass, Bill reached his hand behind the other's neck, took a fist full of dark hair, and yanked back as hard as he could while biting down painfully on Ford's tongue. The researcher yelped out a cry of pain as their lips parted quickly. It wasn't a playful kinky thing Bill had done, it was a full blown warning. _"Don't get greedy, Fordsie."_ Bill hissed before standing straight and folding his arms. _"Rewards come in pieces. You get them when you've **earned** them. Though I do have another task for you- the perfect way to win a reward."_ He cooed. 

"What's that?" Ford asked, rubbing over the part of his scalp where his hair had just been yanked. He could have sworn his tongue was beginning to swell, too. 

_"I need a physical body in order to better assist you. You're going to help me."_ It wasn't a request, but an order. And yet, all Ford could do was listen carefully as instructions fell upon him. He found himself utterly addicted to this entity. How could a being be worse than nicotine?

He would give anything to Bill. 

_**Anything for his Muse.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOH SPICY  
> I'm sure this chapter is longer than the rest as it took me 5 hours to write. Please let me know if you see any typos or grammatical errors!
> 
> my social media on all platforms: @omnixi
> 
> My Beta: @vamkitten.cosplay
> 
> song for this chapter: Nicotine- Panic! At The Disco


	4. Body Parts and Incantations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taking me a lot of effort to write this chapter purely from feeling lazy and unmotivated. BUT I'M DOING IT ANYWAY CAUSE I JUST GOTTA. That being said, I knew the general direction I wanted to take this chapter towards as well as minor details I wanted to include, but there were some parts I totally improvised on. 
> 
> As always, let me know if you catch a grammatical or spelling error that I may have overlooked. 
> 
> AND THANK YOU FOR THE KUDOS!!!

Gathering the various parts proved to be a difficult task for Stanford. Of course, he had agreed to do anything for his loving and knowledgable muse and he intended to keep his promise. Ford was a man of his word, after all. 

The ritual Bill had asked the scientist to perform was- admittedly- rather bizarre. Stanford Pines had seen quite a few strange things in his lifetime. In fact, it was the source of his research- unusual anomalies that others considered 'weird'. But this...this was a bit out of his comfort zone (if ever he had one). The whole circumstance seemed a bit more religious than scientific, really. 

If one was moving forward with a clear mind, they would see that not only was this ritual a bit dark, but rather- downright **_demonic_**. 

Ford, however, did not have a clear mind. 

His ' _angelic_ ' muse had asked him to gather several items in order to grant the entity with a physical body. The list consisted of many stomach-churning and graphic pieces to bring together. ' ** _Six ounces of human blood_** ' sat firmly at the top of aged parchment paper in bold letters. The crinkled old paper looked as though it had been trampled by dozens of rabid dogs and carelessly rubbed into fresh soil. 

Obtaining blood wasn't the most difficult task Ford was burdened with. He had given his own willingly. The researcher wasn't a man of sentiment; however, he couldn't help but feel as though having his own blood would bind himself and the entity a bit closer. It was a nice thought...in some sort of sick and twisted way. 

Several more items remained on the list- all having something to do with human physiology in one way or another. Some examples included: ' _three strands of human hair_ ' or ' _one whole human nail_ '. Some things were easier to obtain than others, but Ford was determined to please the one who had brought him so much guidance. 

Stanford gave as much of himself as he could but it began to get more...gruesome. He decided it would be in his best interest to simply find a cadaver for what remained listed upon the parchment paper.

A rough, calloused hand combed through brunette locks as Ford pushed loose strands of hair back into place. He couldn't believe what he was about to do. For a moment, he had begun to second guess himself. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. The man stood staring up at an old building, vines winding their way around the edges of the mature, tattered bricks. A plaque hung lazily on the outer water damaged wall. Engraved, rusted letters waited tauntingly to be read, begging for the eyes of anyone who dared chance a glance at them. 

' **Gravity Falls Mortuary** ' 

The scientist felt his blood run cold as a painful lump in the back of his throat was forced down by a dry, tight swallow. 

"I can't do this." The man muttered, his voice teetering in tone. 

" _You can, and you will._ " Ford froze for a moment at the sound of a crisp voice alerting him, soon relaxing after assuring himself that the sound was one he was familiar with. The brunette shut his eyes tightly to focus only on the voice that echoed through his mind so clearly. " _Come on, Fordsy...don't you want me to have a physical form? A body? Think of how much that could benefit you._ " 

The nervous male straightened his posture quickly and cleared his throat. "Of course I do. More than anything, I want you to be within my realm, my dimension. But this is a crime and extremely disrespectful to the dead, I'm not sure I-"

" _They're dead, Sixer._ " Bill spoke flatly. " _They're meat sacks without souls. Think of what the trade is here! A few parts from those fleshy piles of rot in exchange for a living, breathing, all-knowing me. These people are doing good deeds even after death. It's all for the **greater good**_." 

Greater good. This seemed to be a reoccurring theme. But it swayed Ford every time without fail. 

The dark hair, now damp with nervous sweat, fell in front of the human's face. A rush of adrenaline pumped through the male; instantly, Ford was determined. 

Bill sensed the sudden change- instant victory. He had successfully persuaded the other to continue his task. 

"And if I get caught?" The question wasn't one filled with fear, it was more of asking instruction in case things were to end badly. 

" _Relax, IQ. I won't let you get caught. Just be quick. In and out._ " Bill hummed, doing his best to not sound annoyed. " _I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?_ "

"Wholeheartedly." Came the whispered response.

" _Then trust that I have your back._ " His voice was loving but stern. The sweet tone instantly put Ford at ease. " _Now don't go breaking any windows. Pick the lock. Be smart._ "

Stanford took in a deep breath and opened his eyes to stare at the door in front of him. The moonlight was all he had to aide him in seeing the lock. The young male knelt on one knee, rummaging through a small messenger bag he had slung over his shoulder, praying he would find something that would be fit enough for a lock. In seconds, he had produced two long tools he hadn't remembered packing in his bag. Curiously, Ford examined the shining metal tools that were clutched tightly in his hand. The man could only assume that it was Bill's doing. Without lingering on the thought too much longer, Stanford got to work. 

Beads of sweat began to pearl at the top of his forehead as Ford had continued to put all of his concentration into picking the lock. The only sound besides his steady breathing was the eerie chirp of crickets singing their nightly song. 

" _One more thing,_ " The demon stated. Ford paused his hands. " _618._ " Bill finished. 

"618? What's that supposed to mean?" There was no response. This left the researcher feeling a bit uneasy, knowing his muse must have left elsewhere. He was alone. The man continued his work on the lock until, finally, he heard a satisfying _click_. Feeling rather haughty of a job well done, Ford stood to his feet and pushed the door open. Carefully and quietly, the man moved inside, allowing for the door to shut behind him. The inside of the building was pitch black and smelt of chemicals. Above all else, it was utterly _freezing_. 

A six-fingered hand had found its way back into the messenger bag, putting the two tools back and pulling free a flashlight. He flicked it on and looked around at the freakish sight. Rows of tables peppered with lumpy body bags lined the walls. Columns of mortuary cabinets only added to the industrial and cold ambiance. 

The dark-haired male decided there was no point in simply waiting around. He reached back into the bag and pulled free a simple jar and pliers. Remembering the list, he began to shift through the bags that rest on hard, metal tables. He picked only the best parts as he felt it would please the blonde demon to see this effort. 

After about five minutes of shifting through corpses and pulling free parts of their appendages, Ford heard a small and subtle _beep_. He looked up towards where the sound came from and his heart nearly stopped. It may have just been the fact he was stealing body parts from dead, autopsied corpses or maybe it was because he had just laid eyes on a security system by the door flashing red, but Stanford Pines was almost 100% sure he was going to vomit. 

Panic began to bubble over as the beep came again from the little keypad. He had been so stupid and hadn't even looked for security measures! He mentally scolded himself as he plopped a man's toe into the jar, screwing the lid on tightly. He ran to the keypad, examining its components. It was a number code. 

He wasn't sure if guessing was the best option but he began to pluck in a bunch of random numbers, getting screeching beeps as a sign of negative input. "Shit." The man cursed under his breath. He shoved every item he had except the flashlight back into his bag before holding the cylinder torch between his cheek and shoulder. He had to think. Taking a moment to try and relax his rapidly building nerves, Ford came to a realization. "Of course!" He exclaimed as quietly as possible. The beeping was getting louder and more frequent. 

Ford reached forward and plucked in three numbers. "six...one...eight. Aha!" The light on the keypad immediately flashed green and the beeping had ceased. Despite the system being disarmed, he took this as a sign for him to get the hell out. He silently thanked Bill for the code before making sure to lock the door and shut it tight behind him. 

He hadn't had such a disturbing rush of adrenaline and courage in his life. 

* * *

Everything was ready. A zodiac wheel was drawn skillfully in the center of the attic floor with chalk. Candles were lit and placed strategically throughout the room. Carefully and thoughtfully, Ford had placed each piece from the list within the circle. He presented a simple glass vile of his blood, a few strands of hair, a dead man's toe, a human fingernail ripped from its bed, 6 teeth, and finally- an eyeball from a right socket. 

Everything was laid out in a horrifying and graphic display. Stanford stood and stared at the parchment paper one last time- and he began to speak an incantation he knew well.

"Triangulum, entangulum. Vene foris dominus mentium. Vene foris videntis omnium! " His voice began low and quiet, slowly building in volume. The room began to shift and change as the tapestries on the wall violently shook. Instantly, Ford fell to his knees as a bright flash of blue erupted. The items the man had placed on the floor had begun to levitate and swirl above him in a spine-chilling display. Then, all at once, just as everything had flung into chaos- it had stopped. 

Stanford chanced a look after a flash of blinding light, his eyes squinted at first. He was, by no means, disappointed in what he saw. 

There Bill stood, a true physical form being held together by demonic magic. Incased within flesh and bone, was the entity's whole being. 

He had not looked much different from how he had appeared in the mindscape and in dreams. He still stood at about the same height as Stanford, if not an inch taller. His skin held that same slightly tan color. He wore the same black button-up, black slacks, pointed dress shoes, yellow vest, tophat, and yellow bowtie. Though his hair was no longer a pure, golden blonde. 

Two-toned locks fell neatly around his face. A much richer golden yellow dominated the pigment of his hair. The other side of his part was a dark charcoal black. The triangular patch had stayed to the afflicting non-existant eye. 

It was a new feeling, without a doubt- something Bill would have to get used to. 

"Hey, Sixer!" Bill demanded the attention of the other. A devious and charming smirk crawled its way onto those perfect lips as one eye met Ford's gaze. The author's breathing hitched in his lungs.

"We've got work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! That took me a solid (almost) four hours to write :) 
> 
> My platform on all social media: @/Omnixi
> 
> My Beta: @vamkitten.cosplay
> 
> Song for this Chapter: Toxic- Melanie Martinez Cover


	5. Research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKIE DOKE! Here we go with chapter five!  
> I usually update Saturday nights but it has been a busy weekend. Know that my update schedule will be only slightly inconsistent. But it will be once a week. Updates will be every weekend (either on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday.) though I may add in an extra chapter if I feel like it :)
> 
> Alright! 'Nuff said. Let's get into it!

A slim, tanned hand began to slither it's way over the blond's form as the demon admired his own figure. "Not bad...Not bad at all, IQ!" Bill praised the scientist, earning a small smile from the other. Ford quickly stood to his feet, completely amazed by the events that took place moments ago. "This is incredible!" exclaimed the author. "A whole working human vessel, shifted to your image, too!" His deep brown eyes darted over the body before him. Bill withdrew his hand from his own hips to stare straight at Ford's exhilarated features. Upon locking their eyes, however, Stanford would say that Bill wasn't staring at him but _through_ him. It was as if the demon's gaze was sharp and threatening. Or, perhaps that was only the scientist's nerves. Bill was, noticeably, very attractive. 

A rather smug expression squirmed its way onto the chaos god's features. Every muscle seemed to flow so smoothly and without falter. "You enjoy the product of all your hard work. You're pleased with my image, aren't you, Sixer?" 

God, he had been caught. Was it because he was staring? of course it had been, Bill wasn't stupid! Bashful was hardly ever an emotion Stanford Pines felt or even expressed. But in this moment, it had taken over him. A dark blush was left in place over his stubbled face. He heated up so quickly, he could have sworn steam would begin shooting out his ears or emit from the top of his head. His heart was practically going to explode with this kind of embarrassment.

Rapid stutters began to pour from the scientist's lips, not one word of his ramble was hardly coherent enough to truly even understand. "I-I..Uhm but..A..and you.." 

"Yeesh, Kid." Bill had looked more amused than he ever had been before. Only this time, his face was something tangible. It was real. It was in the **physical world**. That was something Stanford could not trail his mind off of. "Calm down. I'm only messing with you." The demom, now in a human vessel, stepped forward and out of the circle of candles and ritualistic offerings, closing the space between himself and the awkward man before him. "Of course I know you love it. You're terrible at hiding your emotions."

Ford had to take a moment to compose himself before thinking carefully of what to say next in order to not humiliate himself further. "It's...natural for humans to have desires and show it through admiration." He could have sworn that for a moment, his voice cracked. Bill, however, didn't seem to notice at all. That, or he simply didn't care. 

A simple, smooth hum flowed from the demon's throat. It was a sound which showed mirth and contentedness. Simply put, Bill was delighted in how the human acted. Though, before Ford had even begun to speak again, that amused little smirk dropped from the entity's paled pink lips. He despised the thought that crossed over the scientist's mind. He could practically hear it before a word even slipped through Ford's teeth. 

"Let me study you for a day...or...rather your form. I have so many questions. This isn't an opportunity I would like to pass up and it wouldn't take up much time-" 

"That would be wasting time, Fordsie." Bill's words were bitten off and sharp, leaving a bitter taste in anyone's mouth who might have been unlucky enough to hear the demon's annoyed tone. Even that little nickname sounded harsh and sent a shiver running down the author's spine. "You know this, very well. You have other work to do and that is why I had you do me this ' ** _favor_** '- So I may better assist you in the physical world. Now, if you want to be stupid and waste more time, then, by all means, go for it! See where it gets you and your ridiculously oversized brain." His words were like venom. Ford had practically retreated within his own body, though fear held him perfectly in place. He had not moved from his spot. 

Stanford felt that painful lump he knew all too well form in the back of his throat. His mouth suddenly felt dry and his entire pharynx began to sting and ache as he couldn't find a word to help him to persuade his muse in his favor. The researcher swallowed painfully, trying to dampen away the dry feeling in his throat. He didn't want to anger or disappoint his diety. 

A thought hit him. He built up enough courage to speak and chose his words wisely. 

"Perhaps a few hours wouldn't be spent on the current project at hand...however, I won't be able to focus unless you let me study you." So far so good. Bill hadn't interrupted yet. Even after Ford had paused, expecting to be cut-off. Upon receiving no response, the man took this as a cue to continue. "You had promised me, upon meeting you, that I may study and write about you within my journals. I believe this falls within that category and although, yes, time wouldn't be spent on the portal, it would be spent helping me further with my research. Therefore, I will be wasting no time." 

Bill's gaze grew harsh on the other. For a moment, Ford was sure the demon would lash out once again. Shock overcame him upon hearing the blond's voice return to its normal, soothing tone. "Fine, then." Cipher stood straighter, arms crossing over his chest. "You've made your point and you did it well. But you bordered on the line of going against my word, Sixer. Watch it, before your toes get stepped on." The warning gaze softened. "I'll let you study this meat-sack vessel. But you have three hours. Tops. After that, your focus remains on the portal." 

"Deal." 

* * *

So, Pointdexter got what he wanted. Fine. But it wouldn't happen often. Bill had promised himself that, using that same promise as a threat for the human. 

Though this was a good time to take note of how well the demon's magic held the sack of flesh and bone together. Despite the body looking next to flawless, Bill was still unsure if it would function properly- as it should. 

Upon being seated on a table, most of those expensive-looking materials the blond wore being discarded off to the side of him, Bill had crossed his legs and folded his arms. He gave a very closed off and proper demeanor, despite his usual outgoing and relaxed personality. 

"You know, your three hours started twenty-five minutes ago and all you've done is asked me to remove my clothes and sit and stare at a clipboard with nothing written on it," Bill stated. He seemed a bit annoyed but nothing like earlier. "You argued that this wouldn't be wasting time and yet, here you are. Wasting time." 

Ford looked up from the clipboard (which indeed had nothing written on it) over the rim of his glasses as the demon spoke. That same shade of red crossed over the author's face. Bill had known nothing was written? God, he had been wasting time. He knew that full well. However, staring at the other unclothed was possibly the most uncomfortable yet tantalizing thing Stanford had ever endured. He wanted to see every part of his muse's new form but he felt dirty for actually doing so. So, for the past almost half-an-hour, he had chosen to advert his eyes and preoccupy himself with something to make it look as though he was busy. 

"Look, Sixer. The way I see it- you are genuinely curious and willing to learn from such a new experience. But if you continue to blow off time like it's nothing, I might as well leave, since you clearly aren't taking any of this seriously." 

"No!" Ford blurted out just a bit too eagerly. He noted his mistake, cleared his throat, and set down the clipboard. "No." He corrected himself. "I apologize, Bill but...It's just...so new to actually have you in my realm. And you'll have to forgive me but you know very well that I don't see or communicate with many people besides McGucket and the occasional townspeople when I'm out running errands."

Bill's stiff demeanor seemed to melt and a softer look took over his next to perfect features. "Awe, IQ. You're genuinely nervous." Inwardly, Bill found himself wanting to burst into laughter at the behavior of the pathetic human. Though only a small snicker left the blond's lips. A gentle hand reached out to the scientist, legs and arms unfolding. Ford sighed heavily and his six-fingered hand connected with the muse's. Bill pulled the other a tad closer. "There isn't a need to be. I promise I don't bite." A small, teasing smirk licked over the demon's lips. "Hard, anyway." 

That comment caused Ford's breath to hitch in his chest before Cipher continued. "Look, I'll even get you started." Bill had placed that abnormal hand upon his tanned chest, holding it there for a moment. His eye never broke contact with Ford's rich, brown orbs. "There you go, Sixer. Not so bad, right?" 

Humans were so easily swayed and molded. 

Ford felt his hand guided around the other's torso. Over each peck, around the sides of ribs, over toned and slim muscles, and eventually over a delicate, tan stomach. At that point, Bill's hand had left the researcher's. Stanford was too drawn in at this point. He didn't dare retract his own hand from the smooth, flawless skin of his muse. His other hand even dared to join in all on its own. While Ford's left hand had snuck around to hold the demon by the small of his back, his right hand begun to trail lower and lower...and lower- 

A sudden smack was delivered to the brunette's hand. Quickly, and without a second thought, Ford withdrew- only to have his wrist captured in a tight grip. 

"I have told you before and I will not hesitate to tell you again. You get rewards when they are earned. You absolutely may not touch me like that without my **specific** permission to do so." Bill's words were not harsh, by any means. But it was clear this was a warning. 

"But I do deserve a reward if I remember correctly." Ford chanced. He seemed unfazed by the others 'almost threat'. Bill raised an eyebrow. "I successfully gathered every item you needed as well as performed a ritual in order to grant you a physical form. I believe that in itself is deserving enough." 

"You're getting cocky, IQ," Bill muttered. "You're clever. You're beginning to pay attention, that's good. But don't get carried away. That's twice today." Bill hummed but released the others hand and sat back in thought. "Fine. You get your reward. But by no means are you allowed to touch me. Do you understand?" The demon made his point very clear so, naturally, Stanford nodded in understanding. "Good. You're always so good at listening." Bill cooed. "Sit down. Over there." 

The author noticed the other point at an old chair near his desk. Curious as to what the blond had in mind, he chose to obey and moved to sit down. His arms rested on the little wooden armrests that were once littered with splinters but were now sanded to be less of a nuisance. 

Bill hopped off the table and moved to the other. Brown eyes followed the entity's movements. It seemed as if the muse hadn't cared about the act he was about to commit. He actually looked rather bored. That is- until he dropped to his knees in front of the brunette. Bill gained an odd look in his eye and a smirk reformed. Lust. Immediately, tanned hands began to fidget with Stanford's belt and trouser button. 

Ford stared on in horror, shock, anxiety, and excitement. The range of emotions he felt was unbelievably complex. "Wait, I-" 

"Oh, come on, Sixer. Surely you've seen enough dirty magazines to know where this is going." Bill rolled his eyes, now tugging down the other's pants, which Ford was happy to assist with by slightly lifting his hips. "No, I know what your intentions are I just-" 

"Oh my god." Bill paused and stared up at the other in slight amazement. Though this surely was utterly amusing. "You've never..." Ford shook his head. If his face hadn't been red enough before, it sure as hell was now. The crimson tint spread over his ears and cheeks, dusting over the bridge of his nose. "Really? Not even touched yourself?" Once again, in full shame, the scientist shook his head. "I've tried...before. But it just felt so dirty. I figured something so ridiculous as arousal was just more of a distraction than anything else." The brunette finished. 

The demon hummed in thought. "Shame," he began as his hand began to palm at the bulge between the other's legs. The friction of a hand over his undergarment was enough to pull a gasp and a small groan from the man. "'Cause I'm told it feels quite good." 

* * *

Bill was pumping furiously at the other's fully erect member. A skillful tongue glided over the slit at the head. The lab was filled with little moans, whimpers, and whines from Stanford Pines along with various other sloppy sounds. The blond had slowed his hand's movements as he placed his mouth around the head of Ford's dick. The more he took in, the more Ford began to twitch and wiggle. 

Eventually, Bill had taken in Ford's entire length- licking and sucking soothingly. The researcher panted heavily as he watched the other work. He bit on his lip, trying his hardest to keep lewd noises from escaping his throat. With the head of his dick being engulfed by the back of Bill's throat, he couldn't help but let one or two of those moans leave him. 

Bill bobbed his head slowly at first, fondling the other as he did so. His right hand gripped Ford's thigh to help balance himself and keep the other from moving too much. It didn't stop Stanford's attempts to thrust up though, practically begging for more. "Bill, please..." The man gave a breathy moan. Bill gave a hum, the vibrations making the other twitch and whine. 

A six-fingered hand had reached for blond locks, taking a fist full of the silky hair before the demon had pulled himself off the other's member. A hand replaced his mouth, stroking at a fast pace. "What did I say about touching me?" Bill growled. 

Ford felt shameful as he stared down at the other's piercing glance but he moaned at the pace. He felt a heated knot build in his stomach. The longer this went on, the tighter the knot became. "N..Not to.." Ford gasped out, feeling Bill's thumb rub over the tip then returning to the fast-paced pumping and jerking. The brunette's hands had returned to their places, gripping at the chair's armrests. The head of Ford's prick dripped with pre-cum. 

Satisfied with the human's answer, Bill gave a nod and returned his mouth to its previous place. He bobbed his head and fondled the other in rhythm with Ford's jerking, thrusting hips. That knot in the man's stomach grew tighter and tighter until he simply couldn't take it anymore. The researcher threw his head back and let out a loud, guttural groan with one final thrust of his hips into the other's mouth, the knot coming undone. Ford hit his peak and released the heat inside of him. Bill aided the other through his climax, his mouth now full of Stanford's cum. 

The demon pulled away as Ford sighed contently. Disgust built within the entity's gut as he spit the salty, bitter, sticky liquid to the ground. "I didn't give you permission to cum and especially not in my mouth." He growled angrily, his words once again sounding acidic. Bill rose a hand to his lips and wiped away the last dribble of cum that splattered his mouth. Within seconds, he was standing up and returning to the table, sitting back in his previous position. "Two hours and twenty minutes left, IQ." 

Ford was in a daze. That was the most astonishing thing he had ever experienced. He could care less if Bill was upset with him for releasing without being granted permission. From that moment on, he swore he would give in to human desire and arousal every time. Talk about a **reward**.

The author stood once he felt his legs were strong enough and pulled up his garments, zipping up his trousers and fastening his belt into place before returning in front of Bill. 

"Right then..." He cleared his throat, a heavy blush still evident on his ears and cheeks. "Back to business."

Bill rolled his eye. 

_Humans._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm too gay to know what sucking dick is like so I tried my best :,)
> 
> My platform on all social media: @omnixi
> 
> My beta: @vamkitten.cosplay
> 
> Song for this chapter: Love Me Dead by Ludo


	6. Hardly Working

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK A BIT LONGER I DIDN'T ANTICIPATE HAVING A BUSY WEEKEND!  
> Anywho, thanks for sticking around.  
> I had no idea where I was going with this chapter but I hope it turned out okay! 
> 
> My beta is @vamkitten.cosplay on instagram!
> 
> Please leave a comment to let me know what you think so far! It really helps me!

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

Time couldn't possibly move any slower. Though every second counted when it came to this project. The project that Bill would surely praise Ford for. He had to make it perfect. There was no room for slip-ups or error. One mistake could lead to certain failure, not to mention- ultimate destruction. 

Since the previous day, Ford had become sidetracked. There were few things that were sitting like a bag of bricks on the author's mind- the portal not being one of them. After receiving such wonderful treatment from his muse, Stanford could hardly function. Lewd thoughts filled his brain to the rim, leaving no room for rational thinking or problem-solving. No, instead, images and visions of completely indulging himself over the blond cycled on repeat like a horrible seventies porno. Terrible music and all. 

Stanford stood in front of a chalkboard, a six-fingered hand gripping tightly to the same powdered stick of chalk he had been for the past hour. Repetitive tapping sounded around the room where the man's slimmer colleague had anxiously been drumming his fingers along his desk as he examined a piece of scrap metal. 

The sound had simply become white noise to Ford. He was much too distracted to bother focusing on something so rhythmic. The researcher blinked and held his eyes closed just a second too long, leaving him vulnerable to another immoral and immodest image that flashed across the canvas of his eyelids. The brunet's breath hitched, his lungs pausing all movement and holding what little air they had. Mud-brown eyes sprung open as Stanford swallowed thickly. He hesitated to blink. 

That little vulgar illustration his mind had conjured just moments ago depicted a bare Bill Cipher, lying beneath the scientist, completely and utterly susceptible to the larger man's will. The blond held a pink color in his cheeks, half-lidded eyes were staring so nicely up at the brunet, begging for more of whatever it was Ford was giving him. 

_More...Please...Stanford...Stanford...Stanf **ord-**_

" **Stanford**!" 

The man turned quickly away from the dust-covered chalkboard, his head whipping up from his low gaze to see his dear friend and assistant. 

"Ye had me worried. Thought ye weren't comin' back down from that little maze in yer head." Fiddleford's troubled expression only grew more apprehensive upon seeing Ford's heated complexion. "Ye've been...uh," the mechanic swallowed tightly. "Dozin' off." He finished. 

For a moment, the only sound that echoed softly in the background was the anxiety-inducing tick of time. That damned clock seemed to be broken again. It shouldn't be ticking so loudly...

Ford cleared his throat. Finally. Some true, void filling noise. 

"No, I'm alright. Still here..." he gave a small and awkward sounding chuckle at which Fiddleford only seemed to become more troubled. 

"Yer lyin'." McGucket bravely pointed out. That was a first. This response earned him a raised eyebrow from the brunet. 

"E...Excuse me?" 

"Yer nowhere near alright." The smaller male continued. "Take a look at yerself. Yer face...it's as red as a rose in June! Ye aren't payin' attention to what we're doin'...ye even skipped every meal of the day thus far. Somethin' has got ye all up and bothered. I ain't gon' pry or nothin', I just worry fer ye." 

As his colleague began to point out obvious hiccups within the man's appearance and actions, Stanford felt himself grow defensive. Nothing was wrong with him! This was the best he had been in years! How dare Fiddleford accuse him of lying about his own well-being. The brunet opened his mouth to retaliate, his face growing redder with the heat of anger bubbling up in his gut. He, unfortunately, was interrupted and was too polite a man to do the same. 

"Ye have these...episodes. Ye don't sleep, ye don't eat, ye stand 'round like it ain't worth the trouble of movin'! Yer work is faltering. There are countless errors and what's upsettin' 'bout all that is I don't think ye see the issue!" Fiddleford knew he had overstepped his bounds. Since the day he had been scolded like a child whose stolen the last cookie from the cookie jar, McGucket has often kept to himself with the occasional small talk. However, upon seeing his once near and dear friend fall behind in such an uncharacteristic state, the mechanic refused to hold his tongue for a second longer. 

Anger became hot water in a capped pot, begging to boil over. The steam was rising and there was nowhere for it to go but out. A sharp breath was drawn in after the brunet had realized he hadn't allowed himself to breathe. 

"I've been perfectly rational, healthy, and most importantly- _happy_ ," The words flowed like venom. Each word practically dripped with toxicity at which Fiddleford had found himself quickly standing down. Ford didn't wait another beat before continuing. "Furthermore, we have discussed how I do not owe you anything. I am not required to tell you how I am feeling. You know my thoughts on that. My thoughts are strictly worldly and how I act is none of your concern. I have minded my own business, F, as I said I would. You, however, have not. You may think of yourself as some _'good samaritan'_ for showing incredibly intrusive concerns for my well-being, but you are not."

Stanford took a step forward, McGucket taking a step back. 

"You are simply being a nuisance." The man finished. His words were so sharp they could have cut his own tongue, had he not made it clear his sentences were directed strictly at the other. 

Fiddleford felt himself sink. This was worse than before. He had pressed a major button and there was no going back. Now, he began to fidget under the other's intense stare. Darkened blond hair fell over the frames of wire spectacles as the southern man's gaze guided itself away from Ford's threatening eyes. 

"I...I was just-" His voice was timid and quiet. 

"What, Fidds? You were just what? Trying to squirm past my personal barrier?"

"-Tryin' ta be a good friend, goddamnit!" Fiddleford found it in himself to raise his voice back at the other, his spine straightening and his fists curling tightly into balls. Fingernails cut deeply into his fleshy palms. As such a religious man, the mechanic had never taken the lord's name in vain. This indicated he was just as frustrated at this point. 

Now it was time for Stanford to stand down and listen to the other. Guilt had started to overcome him, weighing heavy on his broad shoulders. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he frantically tried to push away, refusing to seem vulnerable. 

"Ye never listen ta my reasonin' when it involves my worry fer yer health!" F snapped bitterly. "So fer once in yer life, **SHUT YER TRAP AND LISTEN TA ME!** " Never had Ford heard his assistant raise his voice. Not unless he was hollering or screaming in terror from a particularly traumatic expedition. 

This caused Ford to immediately melt. He allowed for the jaws of guilt to swallow him whole. 

"Somethin' ain't right. I don't know what yer doin' when ye've got little free time, but it ain't healthy fer ye. I miss our friendship, the bond we had! What happened ta the man I knew? The man I became friends with back in college? What happened ta the Stanford Pines I knew?" The male's voice was riddled with worry but gradually grew softer with each sentence. 

The ticking from that old clock that hung on the wall- it became loud once more. The familiar sound engulfed the two like a thick winter blanket, weighing like cement over their heads. 

Ford had taken this time to think about his words, before sighing a deep breath of defeat. 

"You're right." He managed, his voice now hoarse from how stiff and dry his throat had become. "You're completely right- and I'm sorry, Fidds. I had no right to get so defensive it's just..." another deep inhale. "There are some things I do that I feel are beneficial to myself. This is something that I rather keep personal. I appreciate your concern. But truly, I mean it when I say- I'm perfectly alright." 

* * *

Bill hadn't said a word in days. He had kept to himself, wearing that glimmering smirk that most would find degrading. But Ford worshipped that smirk. He loved it. He wanted to ravish that mouth. 

Lust had become a big part in the brunet's life. He often found himself wanting to touch his muse in any way possible. Just a little physical contact. But he was wordlessly denied every time he was able to get close to the blond entity. Polydactyl hands would reach up to snake around that perfectly slim waist, only to be harshly smacked away. A teasing grin would always find its place on those flawless lips of the demon, the curve of his mouth never faltering. 

It led to a constant struggle with discomfort. Ford had found pleasure in something- someone- so perfect and no amount of masturbation and self-pleasing could do the trick. He knew that it simply wouldn't be as good. 

"Bill, please...Can't I just hold you for a few moments?" No response. Only that stupid, tantalizing smirk. 

The blond was sitting atop the kitchen table, making it next to impossible to ignore him. He was doing it on _purpose_. That's what drove the researcher absolutely mad. 

Bill was finding entertainment in teasing the other. He knew what doors he had opened up for the scientist. He knew he would cause sexual frustration in the other now that Ford had a taste of pleasure. 

Without a word signaling it was okay to touch, Stanford knew better than to try. He refused to have his hands smacked away one more time by the other. Though, at this point, the pain would be enough just to set the brunet off. 

Boldness had snuck its way into the man as he straightened himself from his hunched over look of disappointment. "Alright, then I suppose the portal project will need to be put off a bit-" 

That beautiful smirk that had been plastered in place for days had twisted into a bitter scowl. A tanned hand gripped tightly over an unshaven neck. 

Ford found maybe a bit too much pleasure in that action, blood rushing to his face...and elsewhere. 

"I play my games. You aren't allowed to play yours." The first words the blond had spoken in over seventy-two hours. "Look, I've given you something real good, Fordsie, and I'm not about to give you anything remotely close to that until you've earned it. You **haven't** earned it." The demon now seemed to be gripping tighter, cutting off the air supply to Stanford's lungs. "If I recall, my little brainiac hasn't been doing that great of a job."

Ford shivered at the other's tone. God, he wanted the other under him and butt-naked within the next ten seconds. 

Bill withdrew his hand. "You find too much pleasure in that." He huffed.

"I bet you would, too. My muse...begging for me to bruise his pretty little neck..." Ford's tone dropped an octave, his words becoming seductive as he leaned closer to the blond who sat firmly planted on the kitchen table. 

It pulled no reaction. 

"You're worse than a horny teenager." Bill groaned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY I DON'T KNOW HOW TO END CHAPTERS?  
> Due to some amazing ideas and suggestions from my beta, This chapter mainly focuses on Ford's and Fiddleford's relationship and how Bill is essentially causing tears in the fabric of their friendship. 
> 
> In other news, Bill is a cocky piece of shit who likes to taunt and tease Ford when he's hella bored. This is also a tactic of abuse- withholding something like affection, pleasure, etc. in order for the other party in the relationship to become desperate and touch starved, causing them to be willing to do almost anything in order to gain said desire. 
> 
> My platform on all social media- @omnixi
> 
> Song for this chapter: Go To War by Nothing More


	7. Yellow With Envy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHM WOW SO I SUCK.  
> Lemme explain.   
> First of all, my weekend ended up being filled with last-minute plans and a little episode of feeling lethargic and unmotivated. I kept telling myself every day when I woke up that I would write the next chapter and publish it but every day I was unmotivated. Then I got a small stomach bug and HERE WE ARE. 
> 
> I'm not giving up on this fic.
> 
> Also, I tried to be clever with the title of this chapter. Ahaaaa...Yellow. Cause..Cause Bill is..Get it? 
> 
> OOOOOKay moving on.

How long had it been since he had laughed? How much longer would it be? It seemed as though the world was fading quickly into something filled with stress and work with no output- both physically and mentally. 

The fatigue worsened. Though Stanford refused to let that affect his relationship with his colleague. Since their blow up, Ford had come to accept that he couldn't make Fiddleford less emotional. He wasn't able to change the man from who he was- just as he hadn't wanted his lab partner to change him. It went both ways and became a very eye-opening experience to the author. Taking into account their friendship of many years, both actually grew much closer after their argument. 

But now, greasy brunet locks hung over skewed glasses as the researcher hung over his work. They had made so much progress with the portal. They were so close and that pleased Stanford's muse, resulting in small acts of affection but nothing more. That became frustrating in itself. 

They were so close they just needed a few more parts and some more trial rounds. Maybe if he could skip out on sleeping again tonight then-

"Yer over thinkin' again." Fiddleford pointed out with a gentle smile as he walked over to the lethargic man with a fresh mug of coffee. Slender arms reached out to place the hot ceramic cup on Ford's desk with ease. 

Mcgucket was able to get his friend to talk a little more about how he was feeling, but he had never talked about why he was feeling what he was. Though truth be told, Ford probably didn't even know what was causing him to become so drained. 

A soft sigh sounded from the dark-haired male as he was pulled from his spiraling mind and unhealthy thinking habits. "Yes, you're right." he managed to drone out, his voice lingering sleepily. "I think I'm getting pulled in more and more the closer we get. I mean, ha...Fidds, we are so _so_ close to finishing this thing! We're making history!" he gave a weak chuckle, doing his best to sound more excited than tired. It didn't work. 

The inventor furrowed his brows together as he grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the other's small working desk and took a seat across from the tired, unshowered man. "Well," the southern man began with a small intake of breath. "Have ya eaten today?" The question sounded an awful lot like an invitation rather than a query. 

Stanford shook his head, rubbing his temples. The throbbing in his skull was always so dull and achy. No amount of medication had worked. Though it was probably because he hadn't eaten much. 

A nod came from Fiddleford before he stood from the seat he took only moments ago. He shed himself of his lab coat and adjusted circular wire-frame spectacles before grabbing his beige suit jacket. He began to head to the door but stopped when he hadn't heard his friend behind him. Hazel eyes met deep brown ones. 

Ford looked utterly confused at what his assistant was doing. They still had work to do. But upon their gazes meeting, he instantly knew and that confusion that had spilled over his face melted into a soft smile. The researcher stood and he, too, removed his lab coat before grabbing his own tan trench coat and slipping it on. 

"Greasy's, then?" He asked. Fiddlford smiled as a response. 

For the first time, work would come second. This was the perfect moment to step away and spend time with, not just an assistant, but a friend. 

* * *

"Okay, Okay. So you're telling me...you made a telephone the size of a cinder block...that you can carry around? Wherever you go?" Ford chuckled as his friend explained all sorts of different inventions and absolutely ridiculous ideas he had for the future in mechanics and technology. 

Fiddleford laughed with his friend, nodding as he took a sip of water. It was good to spend time together again. "Yes! A cellular telephone! It's only a prototype but I think it'll do somethin' good. I can feel it in my bones. It'll be big someday." 

Ford shook his head with another hearty chuckle before biting into his club sandwich. Hardly anyone was around. The diner was practically empty. Except for one booth on the opposite end of the establishment. 

Two-toned hair could be seen, an ear peaking through the soft-looking locks had been turned to the direction of the two. Blond and black. 

_Oh, God_.

Ford suddenly visibly paled as he stared behind his friend's shoulder, watching the person who sat listening to their conversation. No, No, No, No, _No_. 

Bill wouldn't be happy with him for slacking on working. He knew that so well but it hadn't come to mind earlier. He was just too distracted by his physical and mental state to even care. There was no way that his muse would stay now. Bill would leave and never come back and he would inspire other brilliant minds while Ford would be left to flounder cluelessly. He wouldn't allow for Stanford to touch him ever while in the same breath, would never touch the scientist again. 

All the lust and newfound hope, all the intelligent conversations and intriguing games of chess...the kisses...

That would all vanish and it was all his fault. 

"You okay?" Fiddleford suddenly asked, his expression once filled with glee now knitted into worry and concern. 

"Huh?" Ford focused once again on the man in front of him, blinking a few times. "Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine. I just uh...Got a little distracted." 

_He followed us here?_

"As ya have been, lately." The man turned to look over his shoulder but Ford was quick to slam the table which drew his friend's attention to him quickly in a startled manner. 

"Sorry, I uh...a fly. I got it. Hah." Stanford nervously swallowed before, to his relief, Susan (their waitress), came to give them the check. 

The conversation with her was light and pleasant. She had a very different personality that radiated joy. Ford liked that. 

The tab was paid and the two men stood to leave, Ford racing out rather quickly. But not before he had a final glance at the person who sat in that booth. He turned to look dead into the scientist's eyes.

_He followed us here._

That look. The anger...and a hint of some other emotion the dark-haired male couldn't make out before he left the diner. 

_I'm as good as dead._

* * *

The horror that was anxiety hit the man like a brick to the face. He had been waiting and waiting and waiting for Bill to come around the corner and call him out for slacking. But it never came. 

Not yet. 

That's what had him so anxious. The endless waiting, not knowing when it would come or _if_ it would come. 

The steam from the hot water fogged the old bathroom as the shower was finally shut off and Ford stepped out, drying himself with a towel and wrapping it around his waist. One look in the mirror told him he wasn't at all well or healthy in any aspect of his life. But this little waiting game Bill was playing was the icing on the cake. 

Then, there it was. All at once, brown eyes widened once Ford had opened the bathroom door into the hallway. 

"I can explain-" 

Before the man had a second to sputter out a lick of an explanation, he was greeted with soft lips against his, tasting sweet. Like honey. Though this kiss wasn't exactly the most gentle thing, Ford hadn't expected any less from Bill. The best way he could describe it was not angry...but _needy. Envious. Greedy._

It took a moment to process what had happened. The brunet male was so thrown off by the action, he actually stood like a wide-eyed stature for at least a minute before melting into the passionate embrace. He wanted to hold Bill tightly against him. His prayers were quickly answered as the blond took those polydactyl hands into his own and placed them on his waist. 

A small bite to Ford's lip sent the man over the edge. He had waited for so long to touch such a perfect entity and he wasn't about to hold back. His hands shifted and within seconds, he had hoisted the blond up, urging for the other's to wrap his legs around the man's waist. 

The kiss became lustful and sloppy in a matter of a minute. Tan hands draped over Ford's shoulders and laced their way up through damp hair, tugging and pulling at the strands. This earned a small groan from the researcher before he turned on his heal. 

The movement was so fast that Bill hardly registered what had happened- until he felt a sudden sharp pain on the back of his head and down his spine. His eyes shot open and a wicked grin crossed his lips into the heated kiss. Ford had slammed him against the hallway wall. If he wanted to be rough, Bill was more than willing to play. 

As swollen pink lips trailed down to the demon's jawline and neck, sucking on soft parts of tanned skin, Bill took the opportunity to speak.

"Sixer," His voice came low and seductive though it heeded much deeper meaning. 

Stanford's eyes flickered up as his tongue trailed over the smooth skin. 

"You spend too much time with your little 'assistant'. You know I'm the one supposed to be assisting you now-"

The brunet paused. 

_Oh, my God._

He straightened himself out a bit, but his hold stayed firm to Bill's hips. 

"You're jealous." He pointed out, a small smirk crawling onto his lips. 

This drew a frustrated and loud whine of annoyance from the entity before him. With an exaggerated eye roll, Bill scoffed. "I am not, that's ridiculous. I'm all-knowing and powerful and he-"

"You are too! that's why you followed us, today! I'm only using logic and observation and it's clear you're jealous!" Ford exclaimed with a slight chuckle. 

A warning groan came from the blond. 

"Shut up and fuck me, Stanford Pines."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW THIS CHAPTER WAS EXTREMELY SHORT. I'M SORRY BUT I FELT LIKE IT WAS A GOOD PLACE TO STOP T^T
> 
> Welp, expect some good ol' sexy times in the next chapter. 
> 
> My platform on all social media: @omnixi (most active on instagram and Tiktok but I know have a tumblr) 
> 
> Song for this chapter: Venom by Icon For Hire


	8. Cigarettes After Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would be posting every week but that, clearly, has changed.  
> Life got crazy and a bit dumb. So I'm thinking I will post once a month unless I can find time to do more.  
> Please stick with me...  
> BUT HEY HERE I AM, DOING THIS NOW
> 
> My beta is @vamkitten on instagram :)
> 
> Please comment your thoughts and such! Love hearing from you all!

Heavy panting filled the room. It was clear that this kind of passion wasn't a gentle one. It never was. No, it was sloppy and needy in the best kind of way. 

Sharp nails dug deep into fair skin, breaking the flesh in perfect streaks. Bill always found that pain was the most stimulating. That may not have been true to everyone but he wanted to test some boundaries. He wanted to yank the researcher into the must lustful parts of his mind. The demon wanted to see how far-gone he could get Stanford Pines. 

It looked like it was working. 

A heavy groan was pulled from the author as Bill's nails raked across his bare back. Lustful brown eyes peered upon the entity beneath him as if the blond were Ford's next meal. Bill, however, didn't give the same kind of look. In fact, he looked more as if he could care less of what the other was or had been doing. Uninterest would be a better word to describe the demon's lack of real lust. 

Really, he only wanted to test these waters and remind Ford that his attention should be dedicated to his muse and his muse only. Bill had no other intention of 'feeling good' or whatever it is the humans decided to do this activity for. It didn't even really feel like anything but awkward. 

Stanford, however, seemed to be enjoying the activity quite a lot and didn't pay much mind to the fact Bill wasn't having a blast. 

With each thrust the human gave, the blond would be moved an inch closer to the headboard then yanked back away from it in order for this pattern to continue. 

It hadn't lasted all too long. Embarrassing, really. They had maybe been at it for a solid five or six minutes. Bill had to hold back his laughter after feeling the warm liquid ooze inside of him. That amusement was quickly washed away with disgust. 

Bill's hands left the brunet's back and lazily landed on the sheets. 

By the time the author pulled himself from the now oozing hole, the blond entity was ready to bring harm to the man for allowing such a disgusting substance inside of him. 

Ford rolled to his back to lay beside his muse. He was pleasantly sitting on cloud nine. Euphoric and happy from the orgasm he just had. But it had taken everything within the demon to not reach over and strangle the scientist. He was too valuable and they weren't finished with the project. 

With a disgusted shiver, Bill sat up and gave a wave of his hand and snap of his finger before a lit cigarette appeared between slim tan digits. 

"You shoulda pulled out before, Sixer." Sounding calm was a bit difficult in the moment. But he did his best. The cigarette found its way between those perfect god-like lips and a heavy drag was taken from it. 

Ford had a look of complete satisfaction. All judgment was clouded from the lingering feeling of lust. satisfaction. "Was that as amazing for you as it was for me?" The scientist asked, convinced he had been amazing in bed. 

"Mmmhm." Bill gave a half-assed response of an affirmative hum and a sarcastic fake smile. A roll of a golden eye and the smile was instantly gone, a puff of smoke swirling its way from the demon's nostrils and passed his lips. The patch that once covered his other unseen eye had been removed at some point and now golden blond hair covered it instead. 

A smile of what most would assume is love or joy had slithered and spread over Stanford's lips. After taking a moment to catch his breath, the man turned on his side and reached over to try and rest his left hand upon that smooth tan skin of Bill's hip. In return, Ford got a heavy dose of grey smoke blown in his face and a smack to his wrist. So it was back to this, then. He didn't know why simply pleasuring himself with his muse would change their relationship much. 

"Come on, IQ, you know better than that." The blond tisked the other. "You know you actually have to do something worthy of praise or rewards in order to receive an honor like touching me." A bitter and sarcastic tone took its place in the demon's voice. He flicked the other's forehead. Ford furrowed his brows as he instantly hated being treated like a child. He usually never minded it but this time it was a bit more agitating. 

"Fine. I suppose I'll go call Fiddleford and-"

"NO!" Bill jumped a bit too quickly on that train. 

_Shit._

Ford gained a smirk now. "You don't like that idea? I wonder how come..."

"Quit that..." The blond groaned. 

"Or what?" Daring. Too daring. 

"Stanford!" Bill snapped quickly. But it hadn't mattered now. The Pines man had already gotten a second wind and was ready to keep this going. He got a small taste of dominance and wasn't about to give that up just yet. Arms wrapped quickly around that slim tan waist and the researcher yanked the demon back to him. 

The brunet took little to no time to sit up and yank the blond into his lap. The cigarette that was once between Bill's fingers had vanished in a spit of blue flame. 

For the first time, Ford saw the muse with wide, shocked eyes. And for once...speechless. 

That was new.

Now he had the blond straddling him. He took this moment to position his newly erect member at Bill's opening. The singular golden gaze stared into those rich brown eyes that kept a half-lidded, hungry look. "Think about this and how much trouble your ass will be in-" Bill tried to warn. 

"My ass isn't the one that particularly seems to be in danger at the moment." 

That shut the demon up for a second. Complete shock was something Bill had never felt before- but here he was. 

That gave Ford the rest of the courage he needed before he eased himself inside his muse, pulled back out, and slammed straight back in. He abandoned any and all forms of gentleness, seeing as how Bill didn't really enjoy being 'gentle'. 

The action earned a rather surprised gasp from the demon and his hands were back to gripping the brunet's shoulders, nails raking over the skin. A groan escaped Ford and another thrust came. 

This wasn't right. It felt good. Why did it feel good? Why did it **feel** like anything at all?! The way the thrusts were angled were more than enough to actually draw very small and suppressed noises from the blond entity. 

The author leaned forward as he gripped tighter onto those hips, guiding Bill up and down to help assist the rough thrusts. That's when Ford bit into the soft skin of the demon's neck. 

That was what was apparently needed because Bill smacked away the polydactyl hands and began to move on his own. The way he moved his hips up and down with ease and such an undiscovered passion had even Ford frozen with shock before the pleasure pulled him from his statue-like state. Now instead of worthless and meaningless panting, the room filled with pleasurable moans, whines, and groans. 

"W-Wait, Bill, I'm gonna-"

"No, you aren't. Not until I say- neh- you can." Bill growled back. He reached down and gripped tightly at the base of the brunet's erection. With one hand keeping the researcher from cumming, the other was tearing up the man's left shoulder with sharp nails. 

Once the demon had gotten himself to his own peak, shivering and panting like a pitiful, lust-filled human, he released Ford's member and allowed the man to cum inside. He regretted that when he came down from his high. 

* * *

Laying in a filth-ridden bed, Ford had a victorious grin plastered to his lips. "So...Wanna go for round three?" The man panted. 

Bill furrowed his brows and scoffed. 

It was going to be a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE THAT MAKES UP FOR MY ABSENCE.  
> I'm sorry. 
> 
> Song for this chapter: Flesh- Simon Curtis (of course.)  
> My platform on all social media: @omnixi


	9. (UPDATE)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update and why this story hasn't been updated in a few months :)

OKAY HI!

I hate writing updates as chapters but I wasn't sure of any other way to explain myself. 

In these past few months, I have managed to battle out and get free from my abusive father. My mother and I are caring for my elderly grandparents and I have been working two jobs to help with income to support my family. 

In December, my mother and I bought a home that will be built soon. We need to sell our house in April and figure all that fun junk out. 

Then of course there were the holidays and other dramatic events in my life. Lets just say I'm pleased that 2019 is over and we start a new year. 

I have been low on motivation but please expect another chapter soon. I've been building more ideas and I think I'm ready to start writing up this story again. 

Thanks for being so patient and sticking around. 

If you ever want to chat, my Instagram and tik tok are what I am most active on as @/Omnixi. Please give me a follow so you can keep updated!


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